The Worst of It

In a lot of the comments and feedback that I’ve received regarding these blog posts, I’m hearing a lot of ,”thanks for being so honest” or “thank you for talking about this so openly.”

The following post has been just sitting here unpublished for a little while. I thought maybe it was a little too much sharing. But then I remembered all of your comments and encouragement and thank yous, so no matter how ugly my truth is I will keep sharing it. I’m a real person with real person problems.

Important Note:

Mom, Dad, loved ones (especially YOU Grandma!)- I kindly request that you read no further and instead watch this cute video of dogs doing stuff. I mean it Grandma. Click here now.

So here it is: the worst of it was wanting to die.

More of a constant feeling of not wanting to live. My feelings were so strong they seemed to take over my logic and common sense. Everything I knew in my life to be good and true was overridden by my feelings, which were dark and depressed, sad and lonely. I had no reason to think this way. My newborn was thriving, Ellie was happy. Daddy was was doing his best đŸ™‚

I remember one day in particular Chris called to tell me he was on his way home from work. I had actually taken mental stock of all the medications in our house and figured that I had roughly 25 minutes before Chris got home to lock myself in the bathroom and take them. This plan was only dependent on the fact that Chris would be home in 25 minutes. I wouldn’t want him home sooner, but I wouldn’t want him home later either. He had to be there to take care of the kids in exactly 25 minutes. That way everyone would be happy and cared for and I could just go away.

Honestly, Brain, how could you? You’re the worst.

Thankfully there was no action to my thoughts, though the fact that these thoughts were even in my head is frightening enough. I was so convinced that it would be better that way. My feelings of inadequacy, failure, guilt and loneliness always seemed to lead to that same conclusion. My family would be better of without me.

So there it is. The worst of it.

I should point out that it was around this time I decided to mention to my doctor that I wasn’t quite feeling myself, and we talked about different options and ended up choosing a medication which was ultimately what got me back to being me.

I should also mention that I love my family. I love my husband and my kids. I am content and satisfied with my life (unless I’m on Pinterest too much of course). I also love God and believe with everything I have that He loves me.

And I still wanted to die.

These feelings could not be cuddled away by my Ellie, or loved away by Chris. No amount of holding my newborn or even remembering how he grew inside of me those 9 months could take away my depression. It couldn’t even be prayed away. I’m not saying that God didn’t come to my aid, because he did. Through my husband and my family and my friends standing by me and even through my doctor. I believe God directs all of these things for our good.

There’s a story in the Old Testament about a prophet of God named Elijah. Probably one of the most ‘famous’ prophets in the bible. He loved and obeyed God. He also wanted to die. He asked God to take him. He was feeling worthless, like a failure. He had had enough. He was in a dark place. God didn’t scorn him for wanting to die. He didn’t say “You’re so weak, you’re not praying enough.” He sent help to him, just like he did with me. You can read about it here. The best part about Elijah’s story is that he didn’t die. At all. Ever. He got taken up into heaven by a chariot. Sweet deal. God’s funny like that. Oh, you’re praying and asking to die? Surprise! Never going to die.

Oh, you think you’re the worst mother in the world and that your baby hates you? May I present to you your son, aka, the biggest mama’s boy on earth.

So what I want to say if you’re reading this and you’ve been there, or you’re there now, you are not lost or forgotten or hopeless. I’m sorry you’re there or have been there. I’m sorry for the feelings of inadequacy and guilt you’ve been plagued with. I’m sorry for those awful thoughts you’ve had to endure in your mind. I’m sorry for the overwhelming sense of loneliness and hopelessness. I ache for you and with you. I can’t promise you a chariot of fire. But I do know that even now God is sending the right people to you; he may have given you a doctor with exactly the right knowledge for your diagnoses, he may even be using my words right now to breathe life back into you.


One thought on “The Worst of It

  1. I needed to hear I wasn’t the only one feeling this way. So happy to hear God has been faithful in seeing you through this. I forget, all the time. Praying for you! Thank you!

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